


The Unexpected Birthday Trip

by orphan_account



Series: Whore 'verse [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M, Referenced Child Sexual Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-08
Updated: 2014-06-13
Packaged: 2018-02-03 19:58:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1755743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Harry's twenty-eighth birthday, two and a half years after the events of 'Queer Business', and what should be a simple celebration between friends turns into a confrontation with potentially deadly outcomes when some familiar, and not entirely friendly, figures turn up in Sydney.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Happy birthday to Harry, happy birthday to you!"

Harry flushed but grinned as his friends raised their glasses and cheered the end of their song, while some applause came from the restaurant's other patrons. He was glad when it calmed a little, the attention moving away from him as people returned to their meals.

"I hate you all," he said to Draco and their three companions.

"Nah, you don't," countered Sienna, a short woman and the youngest of their group, at twenty-four years old. "You love it."

Harry shook his head. "I really don't. You couldn't have just arranged a picnic on the beach or something?"

On his left, Draco sighed dramatically. "Harry, it's your twenty-eighth birthday. It requires a little more sophistication than a picnic on the beach."

"Draco, you think _everything_ requires sophistication."

"He's got you there, mate," remarked Jesse, a tall, muscled, blonde surfer who fit almost every stereotype Harry had ever heard about Australians.

Draco gave him a dry look. "At least I know what sophistication _is_."

"I know what sophistication is, I just think it's better left to upper crust Englishmen." He grinned at Draco. "That way the ability to chill out and have some fun gets left to us Aussies."

Before Draco could reply and possibly turn their joint mocking into a proper fight, Zoe, nearly thirty but looking barely older than twenty, interrupted by exclaiming loudly, "Oi, look at that lot! I've never seen so many redheads in one place. Is there a convention in town?"

All of them looked over to the door, where there was indeed an entire group of redheads, accompanied by a few non-redheads. Harry felt his eyes go wide at the sight of them and he heard Draco hiss in a sharp breath as they both recognised almost everyone in the group.

"Christ, you two alright?" Jesse asked. "You looked like you've just seen a ghost."

"Worse," Draco breathed, and then both he and Harry dived under the table, eliciting startled cries from their friends.

"What are you doing?" Zoe asked, peering down at them.

"Hiding," Draco hissed. Harry was still staring through the gaps between legs at the group of newcomers, who were now being directed to several reserved tables. "We know those people. We can't be seen."

Their friends exchanged baffled looks, but they pretended to continue with their meals and act like everything was fine as the server took the group past their table. Harry clutched Draco's hand so hard the other man winced, but he didn't complain, just stroked his thumb comfortingly over the back of Harry's hand.

"Alright, they're seated," Sienna said a minute later. "You want to tell us what's going on? Who are those people?"

"Old enemies," Draco answered.

"Friends," Harry corrected in a mutter. "They were friends."

"Yours, maybe," Draco said. "Can you guys help us get out without being seen?"

The other three exchanged looks, Sienna shrugged, and Jesse rolled his eyes.

"You two help him. I'll stay here and call for the bill, but you lot better pay me back later."

"With extra if we get out unnoticed," Draco agreed.

Sienna snatched the beanie from her head and shoved it at Draco. "Put that on then go before us."

He looked at her aghast, no doubt wanting to complain about it not matching his outfit, but she glared and he grumbled and pulled the hat on to hide his unmissable blonde hair. Both men slipped out from under the table as Zoe and Sienna stood and collected their bags, keeping their heads ducked as they hurried from the restaurant, the two women following to keep them hidden from view of the table of redheads.

"We have to go home," Harry said as they reached the street, the shake evident in his voice. "Now. We've got to tell Severus and Remus."

"I'll drive you," Zoe offered, but Draco shook his head, pulling off the hat and handing it back to Sienna.

"Don't worry, we can mange. Thanks for the help, but you two can go back inside. Finish the meal."

Zoe and Sienna didn't look impressed. "Draco, there's clearly something serious going on and you might not be able to get a taxi."

"We're fine, Zoe," Draco insisted a little impatiently. "Go back inside. We'll contact you later."

"You'd better," Sienna said, taking Zoe's hand to tug her back inside. "We're going to want a full explanation of this evening."

"Promise," Draco said, pulling Harry down the street and adding in a lower voice to his lover, "C'mon, I've got my wand. I'll Apparate us home."

It was a sign of how shaken Harry was that he didn't object to the use of magic on his person. Two and a half years since they moved to Australia and he still hadn't touched a wand, though he no longer seemed bothered when the rest of them used magic unless it was used on him.

There was an alley down the side of the restaurant, leading to the backdoor, but the moment they turned into it, they walked into a couple just coming out and Draco's apology stuck in his throat as he looked up and found himself staring at Ron Weasley.

But Ron barely even glanced at him. "Harry?"

"Ron." The word left Harry's mouth in a weak whisper and he looked as if he might throw up.

Draco looked around. They were still too close to the street to Apparate without being seen by the Muggles, but he was tempted anyway. He didn't know what Ron's reaction was going to be once he got past the shock of seeing them, but Draco didn't want to risk having the Aurors called on them and he didn't like Harry looking so distressed. The sooner they got home, the better.

"Harry. What... what are you doing here?"

"I'd have thought that was obvious." The answer came from a pretty woman on Ron's right with cropped black hair and a ring on her left ring finger that matched the one on Ron's, Draco noticed when he took a second look. "This is where he ran after killing Theodore Nott."

"Emma!" Ron hissed, dragging his gaze from Harry to shoot his wife a glare. She merely raised an eyebrow at him. Harry shook his head, not a denial just a motion he tended to make whenever he was afraid and didn't know what to do, and took a step back. Draco tightened his grip and tugged, glad when Harry followed his lead and they tried to slip past the pair, but Ron and Emma both moved quicker, getting in their way.

"Harry, hang on. We need to talk," Ron insisted. "You just vanished on us and now I find you here two years later? I deserve an explanation. So does Hermione, and the rest of the family!"

"Oh, shove off, Weasley," Draco snapped. "Harry doesn't owe you anything."

"Stay out of this, Malfoy, this has nothing to do with you!"

"The hell it doesn't." He drew the wand from his enchanted pocket and half raised it, and Ron did the same.

"The Muggles!" Harry hissed, glancing back towards the street.

"He's right, Ron," Emma murmured. "You can't have it out here."

"Then we move back there," Ron replied with a jerk of his head down the alley. "Out of sight, but I'm getting an explanation before you can disappear again."

"Fuck the Muggles. Harry, lets just—"

"Ron? Emma?" a voice interrupted from the street. "Are you two coming? They're ordering drinks and—oh."

Draco looked around, but Harry didn't. He'd closed his eyes, as if not seeing his old friends could perhaps convince him it was a dream, but Draco knew that the sight of Hermione Granger (or was it Hermione Weasley now?) staring at them was no dream. Although surprised, she didn't look quite as shocked to see them as Ron, and the surprise soon turned to a sort of resigned sadness that made Draco clutch his wand harder.

"Oh, Harry," she said. "I really wish we'd never seen you."

Harry's head dropped, his shoulders tightened, and his eyes remained shut. Ron's shocked eyes had shifted to Hermione.

"How can you say that, Hermione? It's Harry."

Hermione's expression hardened slightly. "Exactly, which means I have to call the Aurors."

Harry did move then, letting go of Draco's hand and spinning about to stare wide-eyed at Hermione, who looked back apologetically.

"You killed Theodore Nott, Harry. I have to call the Aurors."

Draco lifted his wand. He didn't care how many Muggles would see him use magic; he would not let Harry or himself get arrested.

"Hermione, no!" Ron half-yelled, stalking forwards to stand between her and Harry. Emma didn't move from her spot behind them all. "Harry's our friend and we don't know he killed Nott. At least let us hear his side of the story."

"I don't need to, Ron. I've seen the Aurors report and Harry ran away the day after it happened. He's guilty. I've already made all the concessions I was willing to because of our friendship."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ron asked angrily. Draco couldn't help feeling a little glad that at least one of Harry's friends was standing by him.

Hermione sighed. "It means, Ron, that I've known Harry and Draco have been in Sydney for nearly a year now. I could have told the Aurors at anytime, but I didn't."

Everyone gaped at her. Draco was the first to get past his shock enough to speak.

"You knew? How?"

"Your Facebook page."

Draco felt Harry's eyes turn to him and he glanced sideways to see Harry staring accusingly.

"I didn't put anything on there about being in Sydney!"

"Sorry, what's a Facebook page?" Ron asked.

"It's an internet thing," Emma told him.

"Internet. That's the computer thingy, right? With the spiders?"

Hermione and Emma rolled their eyes, clearly having heard this misconception before.

"No spiders, Ron," Emma said. "But yes, the computer thingy."

"I never mentioned Sydney," Draco reiterated. "And I've never friended you on there anyway."

"Well I wasn't about to try and friend _you_ , was I?" Hermione retorted. "But I found your page and then all I had to do was hire someone to track your IP address. I was surprised you even had a Facebook page and thought it was just someone using your name at first, but the pictures confirmed it."

"You put our pictures on the net?" Harry asked accusingly.

"Just mine! I never put any of you, I swear, but I thought mine would be fine. I didn't think anyone we knew would even use Facebook, and I don't even know what an IP address is."

"Internet protocol address," Emma told him. "It's unique to each computer that connects to the internet. It's not hard to trace when it's not encrypted, which yours probably wasn't."

Ron's gaze was still fixed on Hermione. "So you've known for a year where Harry and Malfoy where, and you never told us?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I didn't want to!" Hermione snapped. "Because the Harry I thought I knew is gone. That man you're standing in front of is not my friend, he is a murderer. I don't think he's been my friend for a long time, not really."

"That's not true," Harry said, voice trembling. "Hermione, that's not true. I was your friend."

"Was," she repeated. "You used to be, Harry, when we were young, but not now and not for a long time, I don't think. Not since before you were taken by Voldemort. What he did to you, all the things that happened to you then, they changed you, and I know that's not your fault but it happened. Afterwards... we tried, and maybe we were sort of friends, but we were drifting apart even before you left, Harry, and now... I could never be friends with a murderer." Her voice dropped slightly. "You haven't even tried to deny it, which is only the last bit of proof I need. My wand is in my bag, in the restaurant, so you have until I reach it to get away from here. That's the last grace I'll give you, Harry."

Harry didn't bother denying it now, or saying anything else in his defence as Hermione turned around and walked away. Ron had turned to look at him too and Draco lifted his wand, seeing doubt creep into the redhead's expression. He reached for Harry's hand, intending to Apparate them away, Muggles be damned, but Emma was faster. She wrapped a hand around Harry's throat in a choke hold and jerked him back.

"Emma! What are you doing?"

Emma gave Ron a vaguely apologetic look. "I'm sorry, Ron, really I am, but I swore to take vengeance for my father's death and I can't if Hermione calls the Aurors."

And she vanished with a crack, taking Harry with her.

Draco turned on Ron instantly, barely aware of Hermione, who'd looked back to them when Emma took Harry, and shoved the redhead against the side wall of the restaurant, wand to his throat.

"Where's he gone?! Where's she taken him?!"

"I don't know!"

"She's your wife!"

"I'm not a mind reader! I don't even know what she was talking about!"

" _You're lying!_ Tell me where they've gone before I spill your insides all over the street!"

"Hey! What's going on here? Get off him!"

Before Draco could do more than look around, Fred Weasley was on him and hauling him off Ron, shoving him away to send Draco stumbling. He managed not to fall and straightened up, pointing his wand at Fred. Unfortunately the rest of the Weasleys were appearing now, those left alive after the war anyway—George, Ginny, Percy, Bill, and Molly, as well as Cedric Diggory, who Draco assumed George was still dating, and an unfamiliar woman who clutched at Percy's arm.

"Good heavens!" Molly gasped. "Draco Malfoy!"

"What did you do to Harry?" Ginny demanded. "Did you kill him like you did Theodore Nott?"

Draco gaped at her. "Excuse me? I didn't kill Theo!"

She scoffed. "Sure. _Harry_ did it. Right. You only made it look that way, and then you did something to him, didn't you? Admit it!"

"The only thing I'll admit," Draco snarled, "is that you're a stupid little harpy with less brains in your head than the rest of your family combined together, and they share barely half a brain between them!"

"You should watch what you're saying, Malfoy," Bill warned, his wand in hand. "You're severely outnumbered."

"But not necessarily outmatched," a voice said and all the Weasleys looked around to see Severus Snape and Remus Lupin standing at the mouth of the alley, wands in hand but held in front of them so they were hidden from the Muggles on the street. Their large group was beginning to draw attention though.

"Severus," Draco sighed with relief. "What are you doing here? Not that I'm not grateful."

"Your friends called us; they were concerned that you'd left the restaurant alone in a hurry. I think we should all take this elsewhere," Severus added coldly with a glance at the Weasleys, "and if anyone is thinking of using their wand I might point out that there are two police officers—Muggle Aurors—two hundred yards away and getting nearer."

"Severus, Harry's been kidnapped," Draco said urgently. "Weasley—that one's—wife took him."

Everyone's gaze snapped to Ron.

"Why on earth would Emma kidnap Harry?" Molly asked.

Draco was the one to answer. "She said some crap about avenging her father."

Severus hissed in a sharp breath. "Her father? And you said her name was Emma? Emma what?"

"Emma Weasley," Ron answered, then cringed when Severus snarled at him.

"Her maiden name!"

"Nicholson. Emma Nicholson."


	2. Chapter 2

"Severus, this is a little extreme."

"It's necessary, Remus, just keep your wand on them."

"They're tied up and disarmed!" Remus countered, gesturing wildly at the ten people bound with rope in their sitting room. Severus had tricked the Weasleys into following them home then promptly attacked them all, managing to catch them by surprise enough to take them down and helped by Draco, who hadn't hesitated to join in when Severus started.

Severus didn't glance up from the city map spread open on the coffee table, vial of pale pink potion at his side and paintbrush in hand, painting the potion over the map. "They're Weasleys. The eldest child is a curse breaker and the twins are miscreants. Their escape would not be a surprise."

"We always knew you liked us really, Snape," Fred said with false lightness that didn't quite hide his anger.

"I expected better of you, Remus," Molly said, looking at Remus with disappointment.

"I'm sorry, Molly."

"If you're sorry then untie us."

"We will later. But for now, we can't have anyone calling the Aurors."

"The Aurors! Well I certainly never intended to get them involved. Honestly, we want to find Harry too, and Emma. She is my daughter-in-law, you know. This is hardly the way I wanted to begin our family holiday."

"Ah, so that's why you're in Australia."

Molly glanced proudly towards Ron. "Ron won a Muggle prize draw and treated us all to a holiday."

"The lottery," Hermione provided helpfully. "Triple rollover."

"It's bloody brilliant," Ron agreed, "but it would be nice to know why Emma kidnapped Harry."

"He killed her father."

Everyone looked over at Hermione, but her gaze was fixed on Severus.

"That's right, isn't it? She said she wanted vengeance for her father's death. Harry killed him, didn't he?"

"You're very quick to think the worst of your friend, Granger."

"She's not his friend," Ron said bitterly. "She reckons she hasn't been for a while, since before he ran away. I don't know why I'm surprised. It explains why she never once doubted that Harry killed Nott."

Hermione flushed slightly, but kept her chin up when some of the eyes on her turned distasteful.

Draco's lip curled. "Really, Granger? Not even once?"

She lifted angry eyes to him. "No, because when we were fourteen he beat you half to death."

Draco blinked, surprised. "That's your reason? We hated each other back then and I—he had good reason to beat me up! Sort of. That's got nothing to do with Nott, anyway."

"Of course it does," Hermione said exasperatedly. "Am I really the only one that sees it?"

"You keep poor company, Granger," Severus remarked. "Don't be so surprised they're blind. Harry isn't in Sydney."

"Then where's he gone?" Draco asked desperately. Severus's answer was merely to summon an atlas, flip it open to Australia, tap it with his wand, and start over with the potion.

Remus was frowning. "Severus, please don't be rude. I'm afraid I don't see what Harry attacking Draco as a youngster has to do with things either."

Severus sighed, pausing to look up. "Remus, the attack Granger is referring to was incredibly brutal. Harry did very severe damage to Draco, and broke my nose just for trying to step in."

"And he never regretted it," Hermione added.

"Why should he have?" Ron asked. "Malfoy deserved it."

"You're going to deserve a nasty hex if you keep talking, Weasley," Draco threatened.

"Ron, don't you get it yet?" Hermione pushed before Ron could respond. "Harry's violent. He's got anger and destruction in him, and the attack on Draco was just the first time. You've heard how he killed Voldemort too—he stabbed him repeatedly. I've never doubted that Harry killed Nott because I already knew that he was violent against people he didn't like. If he'd stayed and denied it, I might have believed him, but he didn't. He ran away and he said _nothing_ to us, so yes, I fully believed that he was guilty. Now I've met him and accused him to his face and he didn't even try to deny it. He killed Theodore Nott, and if he could kill once—twice—then he can do it again."

"But Harry doesn't even know Emma," Bill pointed out. "I can't argue with your logic, Hermione, but Ron didn't meet Emma until a few weeks after Harry had run off."

"Bill's right," Ron agreed. "Besides, Emma told me her dad was killed when she was still at Hogwarts, when she was a first year, I think. And that no one knew who did it."

Hermione looked at him sadly. "Second, I'd bet. When we were fourth years. But she would hardly accuse Harry to you, would she?"

"Maybe. Why does that matter? Harry couldn't have killed her dad then! Hermione, c'mon, this is Harry. Even if it's true that he's got this violence in him like you said, do you really think he killed someone when he was _fourteen_?"

Hermione glanced around. Every pair of eyes was on her, waiting to hear her answer. Even Severus had paused in painting the map.

"I think that there's a month of time when Harry disappeared that year and that he never really told us much about it."

"Yes he did! After Sirius Black hexed him, remember? He spent ages refusing to talk then after the Lightning hex he was a right grouchy bastard and then after a while he told us all about it. He was kidnapped by some insane Death Eater who escaped Azkaban and tried to use Harry to find Voldemort."

"But he got away," Fred said, frowning heavily as he remembered it. "He told us he got away from the Death Eater and was found by Muggles who kidnapped children and sold them to people in England as slaves."

"And then Snape found him," Hermione agreed. "But we don't know what really happened during those weeks, do we? And he never told us the details of how Snape found him."

"Don't expect me to now," Severus said when everyone looked at him. He turned his attention back to the map, painting a last few strokes over it. "Harry isn't even in Australia according to this."

Remus frowned, moving to peer over his shoulder. "But she can't possibly have left the country with him through Apparition."

"She had to have got a portkey," Severus murmured. "I doubt she took him out the floo; too much monitoring for international travel."

He flipped to the front of the atlas and the world map, dipping the paintbrush into the potion yet again.

Ron spoke up. "Is it true? Snape?"

"I'm busy, Weasley. Be quiet."

"No. This is my wife and best mate. Did Harry kill Emma's dad?"

"Ask them yourself when we find them."

It was clear he'd say nothing more and silence fell over the room for several minutes until he announced, "England."

There was a shuffle of movement from the Weasleys and both Remus and Draco watched over his shoulder as he turned the pages in search of Britain—

And then the front and back doors banged open.

"New South Wales Aurors! We have you surrounded, put your wands down!"

"Don't fight!" Severus hissed at Draco even as he flicked his own wand in the direction of his bedroom. The door flung open with a bang and three small vials of maroon potion came soaring out of it. He snatched them out of the air, downed one and shoved the others into Remus and Draco's hands. "Drink!"

His tone was so demanding that they did so immediately and Severus had just enough time to vanish the vials before Aurors piled into the room, ordering them to their knees and disarming them of their wands.

* * *

 Harry woke with a moan and coughed weakly. His throat ached and he lifted a hand to rub it, blinking his eyes open. He found himself sitting on the floor of a windowless shed, propped in one corner while opposite him, a gun held loosely in one hand, was Emma.

"Don't bother screaming," she said. "This place is charmed. The door's locked with magic and a dead bolt, so don't bother trying to run either. You're not leaving this room alive."

He stared at her, remembering the last thing he'd heard before she'd Apparated him away from the alley. He must have passed out soon after because he couldn't remember reappearing in this place.

"Emma," he said quietly. "Ron called you Emma."

"That is my name."

"And you said you want vengeance for you father. On me?"

She gestured around the shed with her gun. "No one else here."

"You're Emma Nicholson."

"It's Weasley now, but yes."

Harry nodded, glancing away. "Did you marry Ron just to get to me?"

"I dated him to get to you. I figured if anyone knew where Harry Potter had vanished to, it'd be his best mate. But I fell in love with him. Took some getting used to the atrocious table manners, fondness for crude jokes, and occasional foot-in-mouth syndrome, but he's a really nice guy when you get to know him. Our marriage is real; I'm not leading him on."

"I'm glad for that. I'd be offended on his behalf if you were."

"You don't really have that right."

He looked back at her. She hadn't once taken her eyes off him.

"You left without a word to him, or the rest of the Weasleys, and they've been arguing over whether you killed Theodore Nott ever since. You caused a rift in that family, so you don't have the right to be offended on Ron's behalf. You abandoned him."

"I know," Harry said quietly.

"He deserves better than you. He believed in you, you know. Him and Ginny and Molly were the only ones adamant you were innocent. Hermione and Fred are convinced you did it, George thinks it's likely but says they can't know for definite until they hear it from you and Bill agrees, and Percy says the same but I think he reckons you did it and is trying to be diplomatic."

"What about you? Do you think I did it?"

"Yes. Because the argument against it is that you're too nice of a person to have killed someone like that. When we point out that you killed Voldemort, they say it doesn't count because Voldemort was a monster and Nott was just a vicious arsehole. But I'm the only one that knows Voldemort isn't the only person you've killed."

Harry looked away again, saying nothing.

"Do you deny killing my father?"

He inhaled deeply, let it out slowly, and said quietly, "No."

"Why?"

He shot her a glance. Her brown eyes were narrowed slightly with hatred, brow furrowed in dislike, but there was a tightness to her jaw and he looked at her properly. "Don't you already know? Didn't David tell you?"

"David?"

"Darren? Daniel? Your father's bodyguard."

"Daryl."

"Right. He must have been the one to tell you it was me. Didn't he tell you why?"

"I want to hear it from you."

"He didn't, did he?"

Her jaw tightened further and she finally glanced away from him, just briefly, then admitted, "He told me you did it to save Severus Snape's life, but I know he wasn't telling me the whole truth."

"You're right, he wasn't." He glanced towards the door. "Where is he these days? Is he your bodyguard now?"

"He's dead," she said shortly. "Pancreatic cancer, two years ago. He told me about you on his death bed. Why did you kill my father?"

Harry shrugged then stiffened when Emma lifted the gun and pointed it at him.

"I know how to kill a man slowly, Potter," she said, anger seeping into her voice now. "You're not the only one that can hurt people. Tell me why you killed my father. You were _fourteen_ , the reason can't have been that incredible."

Harry licked his lips nervously, but shifted his gaze from the gun to her face. "You don't want to know why I killed him."

She scrambled across the small distance between them and shoved him hard against the wall, pressing the gun to his chest, other hand fisting in his shirt. "Tell me. He's my father, I deserve to know. I know everything else about him, I've taken over his businesses, so just fucking tell me!"

"His businesses," Harry repeated, anger seeping into his own voice. "Is that the child prostitution business? People trading? Murder?"

Emma said nothing, breathing hard as she stared at him.

"I know about those, too."

"How?" she demanded in a whisper. "How do you know those things? You're Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. You were a kid then, like me. You have nothing to do with father's businesses."

"No, because I was never your father's business. I was his pleasure."

"What are you talking about?"

"I guess Daryl never told you about that. What your father liked to do in his spare time."

The gun pressed harder into his chest. "What. Are. You. Talking about?"

"I'm talking about the fact that your father was a paedophile."

Emma stared for a moment, then her face twisted angrily and she lifted the gun and smacked it against his head hard enough to make him see stars before pushing it against his chest again.

"Don't you dare say that about my father. He was not a paedophile."

Harry's head lolled back against the wall and he blinked. "What?"

"My father wasn't a paedophile."

The stars faded from his vision and he focused on her, though a steady throbbing was starting in the side of his head.

"Yes he was."

He flinched when she shifted the gun, but she didn't hit him again, just pressed the barrel to his forehead.

"He wasn't. My father would never."

"Wouldn't he? He traded kidnapped children into prostitution, but you don't think he would ever use those children himself?"

"It's just business."

"Not for him," Harry snarled. "For him it was personal. It was pleasure. He liked buggering young boys and forcing them to give him oral sex."

"You're lying!"

"I wish I was. Do you think I enjoyed it? Do you think I liked being spread over a bed at eleven years old and raped by a forty year old man? I didn't even know what the fuck was going on the first time he did it to me, all I knew was that it fucking hurt. When I threatened to tell someone, he did exactly what you're doing and promised to put a bullet in my head if I told so much as a soul."

He glared past the gun, trembling slightly from anger, and she looked back at him with wide eyes, looking like she was starting to believe it and really wished she wasn't.

"You want to know why I killed your father? It's because he was a cruel, vile, disgusting man, and if I had the chance to do it again, I'd make sure it was slow and agonising and worse than anything I did to Theodore Nott."


	3. Chapter 3

_Draco, calm down._

"I've been arrested," Draco hissed, eyes flicking around the interrogation room, hands clenched on the table to which he was handcuffed.

_And I am trying to keep us from ending up in prison,_ Severus' voice rang inside his head, _so for all our sakes calm down. I have two minds inside my head beside my own; it is not an easy thing to deal with. You're panic is not helping. And for merlin's sake stop talking out loud to me before the Aurors think you're insane. I can hear your thoughts._

Draco scowled and imagined himself in prison robes, starved and sickly and sitting in a cell opposite his father. He got no distinct reply from Severus, but the vague sensation of irritation came. Having Severus inside his head wasn't helping him to keep calm, nor was the faint awareness of a connection to Remus too. It'd have been nice if Severus could at least have warned him what he was drinking before dosing Draco with potion, but no. Instead he just had the sudden sound of Severus and Remus' voices in his head while the Aurors arrested them.

It seemed that Percy had been quicker and more discreet with his wand than any of them had noticed, getting a message off to the Aurors before he was disarmed and tied up. Severus, Remus, and Draco were arrested for kidnapping and illegal detainment, initially, but they weren't long in the Sydney Ministry of Magic before someone had discovered they were wanted for questioning in connection to Theodore Nott's death and the whereabouts of Harry Potter. Now, several hours later, they were extradited to England, a process accelerated by the fact that they'd been in Australia illegally, and as far as Draco was concerned he had very good reason to panic.

But he made an effort to calm down, forcing his thoughts away from his arrest and across the link to ask, _Was Granger right? Did Harry kill this woman's father?_

There was no answer immediately, but when it came it came from Remus. _Yes, he did, but it wasn't like with Theodore Nott. He killed the man to save Severus' life._

_And it's a life debt I've yet to pay back,_ Severus remarked, a hint of bitterness in the thought. Draco understood; no Slytherin liked owing anyone a debt. They much preferred to be the one owed. He also felt an unexpected burst of relief that the murder had been defensive, realising only then that he was bothered by the prospect that his lover might well have been a violent, murderous man. Voldemort's death was justified, no one argued that, and Nott's could be waved off as an instance of insanity, but three murders—one committed at such a young age—couldn't be so easily explained away.

_What happened?_ he asked.

Once again the answer came from Remus. _Do you know about the abuse he suffered as a child?_

_From the Muggle his uncle sold him to?_

_Yes. That was the man he killed._

_Oh,_ Draco thought gladly. _It was perfectly justified then._

Then he felt a stab of hurt that Harry had never told him about it. He'd thought he knew everything about Harry's past, that the drunken confession years ago had included everything Harry didn't want to admit while sober, but clearly not.

Something must slip through his thoughts because Severus said then, _It isn't something he likes to admit, Draco, even now. Everything that happened with Eric Nicholson is extremely difficult for him to deal with. You must remember what he was like when he came back to school afterwards. As I recall, your lackeys enjoyed tormenting him for it._

Draco couldn't help wincing, remembering that he'd taken some delight in Harry's anxiety back then. He'd never joined his housemates in trying to trigger a panic attack, because he'd still felt some guilt over being partially responsible for the incident with Graham Montague and Terence Higgs and (though he'd never admit it) had been a little scared that Harry might beat him up again, but he'd been immature and disliked Harry enough to be amused by his torment. He didn't like remembering his early teenage years; he really had been an awful, spoilt, cruel brat. Sometimes he wondered, and not happily, what he might have grown up like if he'd never had Voldemort possess him and lead him to change the kind of person he wanted to be.

* * *

 "Do you regret it?"

The gun was still pressed to Harry's head, which throbbed with a full-blown headache now, but all the stars had cleared from his vision at least.

"You ask that like it's a simple question."

"It is. Do you regret killing my father?"

"Yes," he answered, "but I don't regret killing the man who raped me."

"They're the same person."

"I know, but for me... it's not that simple."

"How?" Emma demanded. "Come on, Potter, explain it to me. How is it not that simple?"

"Take the gun off my head."

"Tell me!"

Harry said nothing. Emma pushed the gun in harder, exasperating his headache, but then sighed angrily and drew back, sitting again in the opposite corner but keeping the gun aimed at him.

"Well?"

"It's difficult."

"Simplify it."

"It's not about simplicity!" Harry snapped. He held onto the anger that her words brought; it was easier to talk about it when he was angry and if he didn't talk then she'd shoot him. "What your father did to me... you don't know. You can't understand it, but now you're asking me to talk of things I've done my best to forget."

"He's my father."

"And you want to know the worst of him, do you? It's not fun, you know, finding out that your dead father isn't the saint you believed."

"Just tell me, Potter, before I shoot you. Do you regret killing my father?"

"NO!"

The outburst startled them both, but it snapped something inside Harry and he lurched forward, surprising Emma enough that she didn't shoot him before he got to her, or perhaps she never really intended to, but he got his hands on the gun and twisted, forcing her hand around until the barrel was pressed under her chin. She froze.

"I don't regret it," he whispered. "I never once, for a even second, regretted murdering the man who raped me. I never regretted saving Severus' life. I never regretted destroying the person who was responsible for getting me beaten so badly I now have metal plates holding my face together. I never regretted ridding the world of one more bad guy. "

He blinked and felt tears spill down his face. He didn't try to stop them, nor to keep his hands from shaking as they held the gun.

"But I regret killing a young girl's father, and I regret making your mother a widow, and I regret that at fourteen years old I had to shoot somebody to save myself and my adopted father. I regret killing the man who first showed me how good it feels to be touched by another person, who killed the people that attacked me, who made me feel wanted even though the way he wanted me was sick and twisted. It's been over ten years since he died, but I still sometimes wake up with a scream in my throat because I dreamt of his hands on my skin, and other nights I wake up from those dreams with my cock hard and it sickens me."

He swallowed the lump in his throat and looked down at their hands, avoiding the disgusted look on her face as he uncurled his fingers and drew back, returning to his own corner and wrapping his arms around himself, trying to hold onto his anger and glare through his tears so he wouldn't have to give in to the shame trying to overwhelm him.

"You can be angry at me for killing your father, because you have that right, but don't ever tell me that what he did to me and what I did to him was simple, because there was nothing simple about the relationship between me and Eric. You can never understand that; be grateful for it."

She said nothing, but her expression was all horror and disgust as she stared at him. He looked away, wiping at his eyes and struggling to deal with the emotions bubbling inside him. It'd been a long time since he'd spoken so much about Eric, especially to anyone other than Max. It hadn't been since he'd told Draco, and he'd been drunk then and had never confessed to the murder, just the abuse. Talking about it now, to Eric's daughter of all people, whose name he'd forgotten until today, was more wearisome and emotional than he liked.

But at the same time it was almost a relief to be able to talk again. Without Max to see whenever he needed—he'd stopped having regularly scheduled sessions several years before leaving England, just booking appointments as and when necessary—all his emotions had built up inside him. His dreams and nightmares, his fears and anxieties and depression... it'd all just been bottled up. He could never bring himself to talk to Draco or Severus or Remus about anything. He'd sometimes thought about seeing a Muggle therapist in Sydney, but the thought of having to explain everything from the beginning put him off. He missed having someone that knew everything that'd happened to him, and who he didn't have to see every day and so he never worried about their judgement. Max had been the perfect therapist and he missed her.

"It's true."

He glanced at Emma to see despair had crept onto her face now.

"Everything you said. It's true. You couldn't fake that much emotion. No one could."

"No one would lie about that."

Emma scoffed. "You'd be surprised what people will say to avoid getting killed."

With the conversation moving away from her father, Harry looked at her with wary curiosity. "Does Ron know what you do for a living?"

"I told him I run a Muggle trading business."

"He doesn't ask about the details?"

She shrugged. "I start talking about staff training, finance and revenue, production efficiency, and his eyes glaze over. As long as I keep it technical, he's not interested. It's alright. It means I don't have to pretend to be interested in the management of the Chudley Cannons."

"Do they still suck?"

"Well, they're not bottom of the league tables I'm told. I never cared much for Quidditch. Don't look at me like that," she added at his shocked expression. "We're not all sports obsessed maniacs, you know."

"Yeah, suppose." He glanced down at her gun then back to her face. "So is this when you kill me?"

She looked down at the gun as well. "My code of honour says I shouldn't."

"You have a code of honour?"

"Of course I do." She paused, then admitted, "It was my father's too. He told me when I was little: eliminate those who threaten you, but accept that others have the right to do the same, and be aware that sometimes what is a threat to another person is important to you." Her lips lifted slightly, a small smile of remembrance. "I was eight when he told me that. I only asked him what to do about some kids that were picking on me at school. It wasn't until I was older that I realised 'eliminate' meant 'kill if necessary'."

She lifted her eyes to his and he honestly didn't know what she was thinking and whether she was going to kill him or not.

"But I asked him once about the idea of an eye for an eye, because my gran told me that'd leave the whole world blind. Daddy told me you have to recognise when someone takes revenge and not take revenge on someone taking revenge on you. If you hurt someone then they have the right to hurt you back, but it's your duty to stop the cycle there because you started it. The way I figure, that ties in with the 'eliminate the threat' idea and that's what you did to my father. He was a threat to you that you eliminated, so my honour says I shouldn't kill you and continue the cycle of violence."

He didn't feel any relief, because she sighed, tapped the gun against her thigh, and added, "But he was my daddy and my heart says you should die for killing him."

"It won't help, you know," he said quietly. "Killing me. It doesn't take away the pain of losing your parent. It doesn't undo the hurt I've caused you. It doesn't bring them back."

She considered him and his words. "Is that how you feel about killing Voldemort?"

"Pretty much. He did more to me than I've done to you, but it's still... killing him didn't change what he did to me, didn't undo the damage he inflicted on my family. It felt good to kill him, I won't deny that; he hurt me so much that causing him even a fraction of the pain he caused me felt so _right_. But it didn't make me feel better about it all and it didn't bring my parents back."

"I suppose you're saying that to try and convince me not to kill you."

"I don't really want to die," he agreed. She didn't reply, and he sat and waited to see if she would kill him.

* * *

 Severus scowled as he felt yet another burst of fear from Draco and didn't pay attention to the Auror opposite him. He hadn't said so much as a word since they'd arrested him; he could use Occlumency to filter Remus and Draco's thoughts enough that he could deal with his own interrogation as well, but he didn't care to. He didn't have much respect for Aurors in the first place and he had a record so they were likely to think the worst of him anyway, but he could make sure Remus and Draco checked their words and avoided incriminating themselves. So far the Aurors had no firm evidence that they helped Harry escape arrest; furthermore, Severus didn't even know that the Aurors even had any concrete evidence Harry was responsible for Nott's death, and if they didn't then they couldn't be charged for aiding and abetting.

On top of that, the magical government couldn't punish them for the illegal Muggle passports and visas they'd procured to enter Australia, and they'd never had any kind of magical visa, legal or otherwise, because they'd never attempted to gain legal magical employment. Having already been deported, the Australian Aurors couldn't charge them for the unlawful detainment of the Weasley family, and the British Aurors didn't have the right to charge them for a crime that occurred in Australia. Technically they were only still in Auror custody while the details of their deportation paperwork was settled; Severus was almost certain they didn't have the right to interrogate them about the Nott murder if any one of them asked to leave, but he suspected that mentioning that would be more trouble than it was worth

_Veritaserum!_ Draco's panicked voice practically screamed in his head. _They've got Veritaserum!_

_Refuse it!_ Severus thought back urgently. _Draco, refuse it. You've never been convicted of anything; they have no legal right to give you that against your will. Be clear in telling them you don't want it and..._ He hesitated, not wanting to give Draco someone else to listen to, but he could tell he needed to if he was going to get Draco to calm down at all. _Tell them you want a lawyer._

_Severus,_ Remus voice came, calmer than Draco's but bearing a hint of worry that hadn't been there earlier, _they want me to take some as well. They're saying they can force me on account of my condition._

_Damnit. I don't know the law on that. Refuse it anyway, but if they do try forcing you, don't fight. I don't want them to hurt you and I know what Aurors can be like sometimes._

Draco's voice came again. _Severus, they say they can make me because I was arrested for being a Death Eater._

_They can't. You were cleared of all charges; they can only give it to someone who's been convicted of a crime. Tell them you want a lawyer._

_I have. They're not happy._

_Good. Just make sure you refuse the Veritaserum and when the lawyer gets there don't agree to anything without running it by me first._

He got a nervous _okay_ in reply and hoped it'd be enough. He had to pay attention to his own Auror then, because someone had just delivered a vial of Veritaserum to her as well and the woman approached Severus looking relieved.

"This will make you talk," she said, unscrewing the bottle and drawing out the pipette. "Open up, Snape."

Severus did so without argument. Unlike Draco, he had once been convicted of being a Death Eater even if he'd walked away from his trial without imprisonment. Dumbledore's word kept him from Azkaban, but hadn't stopped them sentencing him to ten years under Dumbledore's personal guard.

He felt the tingle of three drops hitting his tongue and felt the magic of the potion weave through his mind, trying to latch onto the speech centres of his brain and force them to answer instinctively, only to find nearly thirty years of small doses of Veritaserum already resided inside him and his brain didn't care much for this latest dose.

_Severus, they made me_ , Remus voice came apologetically.

_Don't worry, just lie, Remus_.

He felt bewilderment from the other man, and from Draco, who could hear their conversation just as easily, and the unspoken but clear question of how he was meant to lie under Veritaserum.

"What's your name?" the Auror in front of Severus asked. "When and where were you born?"

"Severus Snape," he answered, only half his attention on her as he focused mostly on Remus. His tolerance meant he could remain silent, but Veritaserum compelled the drinker to answer; holding his silence would alert them to his being able to fight it. Answering would make them think he was telling the truth even when he lied. "Tenth of January nineteen sixty, in Cokeworth."

"Where is Harry Potter?"

"I don't know."

_I lied_ , Remus said, stunned. _They asked about Nott and I told them I don't know who killed him._

_Is that because of the mind link potion?_ Draco asked.

_No,_ Severus admitted. _It's because I've been dosing us all with Veritaserum since we moved to Australia._

"Did Harry Potter kill Theodore Nott?"

"I've never asked," Severus answered honestly. The Auror would have to do better than that to catch him, even if he was affected by the Veritaserum. He spent years as Voldemort's spy; twisting truths was a practised skill.

_You and I are going to have a very serious conversation later,_ Remus replied, his anger rippling through to make Severus almost flinch.

"Who killed Theodore Nott?"

He spared her a disdainful look. "Isn't figuring that out _your_ job?"

Irritation flickered across her face. "What do you think I'm doing?"

"Wasting time. If Harry is your prime suspect and you're so intent on finding him, perhaps you should talk to the husband of the woman that kidnapped him."

_My lawyer's here._

_That was quick._

_It's my father's,_ Draco said, sounding relieved. _He was already on the way; mother heard about the arrest and called him immediately. He's coming for you both as well._

_Your mother has my gratitude,_ Remus said. _This Auror doesn't like werewolves._

Concern speared through Severus. _Have they hurt you?_

There was no reply. Severus looked to the door as it opened and a thoroughly unhappy Auror looked in.

"There's a lawyer here for all three. We're to stop interrogation immediately."

Severus' Auror scowled. "We're not done here, Snape," she warned, but stood up and left with her colleague.

_Remus? Are you hurt? Remus!_

_Don't shout at me, Severus._

_Then answer me._

_I told you we will talk later,_ was all Remus replied. Severus sat back in his chair, trying to ignore the spike of guilt he felt.

* * *

 "I don't have to kill you," Emma said. "I could just turn you over to the Aurors for the Theodore Nott murder."

"And I could make Ron aware that his wife is a child trading killer."

"What makes you think he'd even believe you? You ran off without a word to him two years ago, and you saw his face earlier—he was considering Hermione's words. I don't think he's so keen to believe your innocence anymore, so he's not likely to just believe it if you tell him what I do for a living."

"Maybe," Harry agreed quietly, hurt by the thought but knowing he deserves Ron's distrust. "But he's probably wondering about you right now too. You kidnapped me saying you wanted vengeance for your father; he's going to want to know what that's all about."

Emma shrugged. "I'll tell him the truth. It doesn't hurt _me_ for Ron to know you're a murderer. But you have nothing to prove I've done anything more than take you hostage and threaten you."

"What's in it for you to hand me over to the Aurors?" Harry tried. "You can't claim to do it because you're a good citizen, not when you do what you do."

"It'd be my revenge. My code says I shouldn't kill you, but vengeance doesn't follow codes much and I don't like the thought of just letting you walk away. Whatever your reasons, you killed my daddy. I can't just let that go. Giving you to the Aurors, even for someone else's murder, lets me take revenge without breaking my code."

She looked down at her gun, sighed, stood, and finally tucked it into the back of her jeans. But then she drew her wand from her pocket, pointed it at him, and murmured, " _Stupefy_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realised while writing this chapter that I forgot about the metal in Harry's face when I was writing 'Queer Business'. Not a major issue of course, but it would have made their trip through airport security more difficult and I probably should have mentioned it.


	4. Chapter 4

It was dark by the time Harry left the Department of Magical Law Enforcement under the watch of many pairs of eyes. He ignored the suspicious looks of the Aurors, the angry glare of Emma and the unsure frown of Ron, and went straight to where Draco, Severus, Remus, and Narcissa waited, letting himself get pulled into a hug by his lover and returning it gladly, clinging firmly to the other man.

"What happened?" he heard Severus ask Bernard Pring, the lawyer who'd been at Harry's side almost constantly since he woke up in Auror custody. He was Draco's lawyer and Harry was grateful for him, because he'd figured he was screwed when he found himself with the Aurors. Without the lawyer, he'd probably have admitted to killing Nott, and probably Eric too because if he was confessing one murder he might as well confess to both, but Pring had told him firmly not to admit to anything, even to him so that Pring wouldn't be forced to lie at all.

But the Aurors didn't actually have anything to hold him on. It seemed that, initially, all the Aurors wanted him for was questioning on Nott's murder. They had no concrete evidence that he'd done it, merely suspected him because of Nott's attack on Harry weeks prior to the murder and that Harry fleeing the country was what had made him seem more guilty. Harry thought he'd be caught when they produced his wand for Priori Incantatem, found by the Australian Aurors when they searched the house after arresting Draco, Severus, and Remus, but to Harry's surprise the wand only showed a series of minor spells—Levitation and Summoning Charms, Cleansing Spells, Lumos. Priori Incantatem didn't go back far enough to show spells cast over two years ago, not when the wand had been in constant use since which they clearly thought it was, and the Aurors had to admit that Harry's wand couldn't be used to prove his guilt.

The only other 'evidence' they had was Emma's word, who'd insisted that Harry had confessed to the murder, but her word wasn't enough to charge him with as she hadn't witnessed the murder herself. As such, the Aurors were forced to let him go even though several clearly believed Harry had done it.

While Pring was telling Severus and Remus all that, Harry drew away from Draco, gave him a quick, reassuring kiss, then moved over to where Ron and Emma stood. He wasn't sure what Emma had told the Aurors about what'd happened in the past several hours, but he hadn't told them what she'd done. He didn't know if she could get in trouble from Aurors for wielding a Muggle weapon and threatening to kill him, but he understood why she did it so he didn't want to try and get her in trouble.

But he didn't like what she did for a living so when Ron, after asking Emma to give them a moment's privacy, asked, "Is Emma telling the truth? Did you kill her father?" he responded,

"I'm not admitting anything here, but if you want your wife to tell you the truth, Ron, maybe you should ask her more about what she does for a living."

Ron frowned, glancing between Harry and Emma, who watched them from a short distance away.

"What are you on about, Harry? She runs a Muggle business."

"There are a lot of Muggle businesses. Not all of them are good." He looked around then back to Ron again. "I don't know what we're going to do now, but I want to go back to living as a Muggle and... I know things between us... I just..." He sighed and finished, "If you decide you believe Emma and Hermione, or you just don't want to be friends anymore, then I understand. If you do, you can owl me and I'll write back."

Ron looked from Harry over to Draco then Severus and Remus and Narcissa, and then back, sighing as well. "I don't know, Harry. I really thought you were innocent and maybe Snape or Malfoy killed Nott, and you just left with them out of gratitude or something, but it hurt to have you just disappear like that without a word, and now... I don't know what to believe. I'm starting to think maybe Hermione's right and you're not the person I thought I knew."

Harry nodded in understanding. "Maybe I'm not. I am sorry for hurting you though. I wasn't really in my right mind when I left and I needed to get out of England. I'm probably going to leave again; I don't like being here."

"Right. Well we need to get back to Australia and the holiday." He paused then held out his hand. "I don't know if I'll write to you, and I guess we're probably not going to see each other again, so... goodbye, Harry."

A little reluctantly, because whatever else had happened Ron had been the first friend Harry ever made and he had missed him over the past couple of years, Harry put his hand in Ron's and shook. When they let go, Harry looked to Emma, glanced around slightly nervously, then went to her and said quietly, "I meant everything I said to you, but I don't like what you do for a living and if I could, I'd stop it."

"I should have listened to my heart," she replied, her own voice low with anger. Harry shrugged.

"Maybe you should."

"I won't make the same mistake again, Potter. You may have escaped the Aurors, but if I ever see you again you won't get away a second time. I'd watch your back if I were you."

"I'll keep that in mind," he told her and went back to his own family. "What happens now?" he asked them.

"We're going back to the Manor for dinner," Draco answered immediately, clearly having already discussed the matter. "All of us."

"Dinner? It can't have been a whole day."

"Time difference, Harry," Draco reminded him. "It was evening in Australia when we got arrested, but it was morning here then. It's only just evening of your birthday here still."

"Oh, right, yeah."

"We should leave," Narcissa said. "I don't believe we're welcome here."

Given the looks the Aurors were still given them all, that was clearly true so they headed out for the elevators to the Atrium. If Harry'd hoped two years away might make people forget about him, he was sorely mistaken and he desperately wished he could hide from the people pointing, staring, and whispering as they passed by. By the time they made their way through the Ministry to the Atrium fireplaces, Harry was certain in his desire to get back to the Muggle world as soon as possible.

* * *

 "Will you talk to me now?"

Remus ran a hand over the luxurious covers of the bed in the guest room that Narcissa gave them. Severus stood in the door of the adjoining bathroom, arms folded over his chest and mouth set into an unhappy scowl. The mind-linking potion had finally worn off and Remus could no longer hear the other man's voice in his head.

"I'm not the one that has to talk," Remus told him.

"I'm not going to apologise, Remus, if that's what you're after."

"And why not?" Remus replied, anger seeping into his voice and eyes as he looked at Severus. "I don't expect one for what you did—I know you well enough to know better—but I expect one for not telling me about it and I deserve an explanation for _why_."

"I'd have thought you could figure that out, Remus."

"I meant why you did it sneakily. Why didn't you just tell me—us—that you wanted us to build a tolerance to Veritaserum instead of dosing us against our will?"

"It was safer, and I didn't see that it was necessary. You all needed to take it and if I'd asked, you might have refused."

"It would have been our right!" Remus snapped, surging to his feet. "You _drugged_ us, Severus, against our will. You had _no right_ to do that. Merlin only know what kind of side effects or damage could be caused by what you did, not to mention the fact that initially we would have been subject to the potion's effects. How many secrets have we been forced to divulge against our will, Severus?"

"None," Severus replied, a hint of anger in his own voice. "Veritaserum tolerance has to be built; you start on minuscule doses too small to cause an influence and gradually increase it over time so the brain learns to lie around it. As for side effects, I am a Potions _Master_ , Remus. It wasn't a title I took as a teacher, it is a professional status. I knew what I was doing. There are no known side effects from repeated doses of Veritaserum over an extended period; I can attest to that personally because I've been taking it for nearly thirty years."

That startled Remus enough to sidetrack him briefly. "Thirty years?"

"I was a Death Eater, and then a spy, during a time of war, and it's not a tolerance that stays in the body which meant I had to keep taking it constantly. So yes, aside from a few years after the Dark Lord's first downfall when I was too... emotional," he said the word bitterly, as if admitting to even having emotions was distasteful, "to manage my self-medication, I've been taking it for nearly thirty years."

Remus stared at him in wonder for a moment, then caught himself and shook his head. "None of that excuses the fact that you should have told us, Severus. We would have understood your reasoning and agreed; we're not idiots."

"Would Harry?" Severus retorted. "You know how he is with magic, even now. He'd have refused me."

"We still should have had that option!" Remus half-yelled. "If he had refused then I might have agreed with you sneaking it to him for his own good, but you should have damn well given us the option, Severus, and until you can admit that and apologise, then I will not be sharing your bed."

He left the room without hesitation, but slow enough that it was clear he was giving Severus the chance to speak up. The other man never did, though, and once in the hall Remus leant against the closed door and sighed warily. The worst of it was this wasn't even the first time Severus had done something that affected Remus and not told him because he thought he knew what was best. Remus feared that, one day, Severus would do something that Remus couldn't forgive and he dreaded the day that happened.

* * *

 Harry was fast asleep by the time Draco came to bed after talking with his mother, and so tired that it was almost ten in the morning before he woke. Draco was already up and gone, but there were some clean clothes and a towel at the end of the bed and a note on the pillow telling Harry to come downstairs when he was ready.

He found his wand in the pocket of the robe left for him. He reluctantly drew it out, wrapping his fingers around it awkwardly. Severus had confessed the evening before that he was the one to use it so it couldn't incriminate Harry under Priori Incatatem. Now was the first time he'd touched it since killing Nott and it felt strange. Strange and unwelcome. Holding it forced him to remember what he'd done, made the sound of Nott's screams echo in his mind, and left him unable to ignore the fact that he still didn't really regret what he'd done. It disturbed him to know that he was capable of such viciousness, but it disturbed him more to know that he didn't regret it and he was scared that he might do it again. He figured that if he avoided magic, he might be able to avoid the darkness that was inside him. In Australia he'd never felt inclined to cause any particularly vicious harm to anyone (though he occasionally wanted to punch obnoxious tourists; he'd stopped thinking of himself as a foreign visitor after just a few months), but being back in England and surrounded by so much magic reminded him of what he was capable of, and left him constantly wondering if there was someone that would treat him badly enough that he'd want to hurt them.

Unnerved, he left the wand in the room and headed downstairs to find Draco, Narcissa, and Remus in a sitting room. He asked about Severus after a house elf had come to take his breakfast order and got told the man had gone to check his house at Spinner's End. He listened to them talking while he ate a breakfast of yoghurt and juice, joined their conversation after, and only when Severus returned did he ask the question he really wanted an answer to.

"What do we do now?"

Narcissa's mouth tightened at his question and she looked down at the tea she held. Severus glanced to Remus, who didn't look at him and hadn't since he came in, and Draco looked around at each of them.

"What do you want to do?" Remus asked Harry.

"I want to go home."

"In Australia?"

"Yes. That's home now," Harry answered a touch defensively.

Remus sighed. "We can't go back there, Harry. We were there illegally; they won't let us back in for three years."

Harry scowled. "Can't we be there illegally again? It worked well enough last time."

"Except they're aware of us now," Severus said. "From what I heard, the Australian magical immigration department is more closely involved with the Muggle department and they will alert them to us as well. I doubt we'd be able to get in by Muggle means again. That besides, our house will have been seized and even if it hadn't our general whereabouts are now known and you wouldn't be able to hide there again. Even if we could get back to Sydney, it's simply not an option."

"If I might?" Narcissa spoke up. When Severus gestured for her to continue, Narcissa looked to Harry. "You're no longer at risk of imminent arrest; even if you wish to live as a Muggle—" her lip curled slightly at the idea even if she didn't openly deride it "—you can do so in England."

"I don't want to," Harry replied, trying not to sound petulant. "I don't like it here. I want to go back to somewhere where no one knows who I am."

_Somewhere I wasn't a victim,_ he added silently to himself, because England brought back more than just memories of violence committed by him. In England he'd been an abused child, a whore, a consort. They were all things he'd mostly been able to leave behind. It was like he'd remade himself in Sydney to a beach bum with a fondness for expensive coffee, but being back in England left him remembering things he'd done his best to forget and feeling again like the only thing worthwhile about him was his body.

"America's always an option," Severus said, and when everyone looked at him he added, "I did look into alternate options while we were over there. I fully expected to have to leave Australia eventually. However given that, as Narcissa pointed out, the law is no longer against us, I would suggest, Harry, that you do things the legal way. Magical or Muggle."

Harry nodded. He would much prefer Sydney, but America would work just as well as long as it got him out of England and he supposed doing it legally would be more ideal. He wouldn't have to worry about being discovered and deported back to England.

There was just the issue of his family.

"I don't mind America," Draco said when Harry looked at him. "I'll go wherever you want to, Harry."

Narcissa didn't look happy about that, but she said nothing so Harry hoped it meant she wouldn't fight them on it. Harry wasn't sure how much of his mother's opinion would influence Draco's decisions, though Draco hadn't given into Narcissa's question of when he was coming home in every letter they'd exchanged in the past two years.

"I think this is a decision that will take some thinking and discussion," Remus told Harry. "I agree that we should take advantage of the freedom we have that we didn't last time."

Severus glanced at Remus, frowned slightly, but agreed, "Remus is right. Some consideration and discussion will be necessary before we do anything."

Harry nodded again, this time a touch reluctantly. The sooner he left England, the better, but he couldn't argue with their logic and he would like to have Remus and Severus with him. Others might think it weird that he was willing, at twenty-eight years old, to share a house with the closest people he had to parents, but he'd kind of liked it in Australia. At the very least, he'd like to have them near enough to see regularly even if they didn't house share.

Draco reached across and took Harry's hand in his, squeezing and smiling when Harry looked to him.

"We'll figure it out. Don't worry. Whatever you do and wherever you go, I'll be with you so it'll be alright."

And that, Harry supposed, might just be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not entirely sure I'm happy with this ending, but I spent a week agonising over how to wrap things up. Generally I prefer to end stories more decisively, but as I have no idea what I want Harry and Co. doing beyond 'not in England', I had to settle for a more open and vague ending.
> 
> I'm fairly sure I won't write anything more for this series. (More sure than the maybe/maybe not at the end of 'Queer Business'.) This only came about because I decided there needed to be a confrontation between Harry and Emma, and I wanted to show the Weasleys reaction to Harry's murder of Nott. With this, I think I've rounded the series up. The only other possible thing I can think to cover would be how Harry might react to meeting the Dursleys again, but an accidental confrontation with them would be one too many coincidences and I really can't see Harry actively going to see them, plus I honestly don't know what kind of confrontation that might be.
> 
> So thank you for reading and I hope you've enjoyed it.


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